


Tinsel By The Docks

by SomethingProfound



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 07:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingProfound/pseuds/SomethingProfound
Summary: 12 Days of Femshepley.Day 1: One Last Party; Ashley invites Shepard to meet her family for Christmas. Reapers is one thing, your hopefully future in laws are another.Day 2: Last Minute Shopping; thanks to Shepard's inconvenient habit of prioritising military operations over Christmas, Ashley and Shepard have to do some Christmas Eve shopping. Garrus is confused by the whole affair.Day 3: Deck the Decks with Boughs of Holly; it's time to put up the Christmas tree. Distractions abound.





	1. Day 1

“You know…”

Shepard looked up from her datapad (another depressing list of ships lost and lives reduced to a number) to see her girlfriend standing in the doorway of her cabin. It was nice to take off the ‘ex’ modifier from that.

She set the datapad down. “What's up?”

Ash took a few steps over to Shepard’s desk to press her lips briefly to the corner of her mouth. The desk beside her - their - bed was more or less Ashley's now. Sometimes though, they did their paperwork on the lounge do they could press shoulders together or rest legs in laps.

Shepard hadn't realised just how much she'd missed easy affection until she'd had it again.

As she pulled away Ash said, “tomorrow is Christmas.”

Emilia blinked and glanced at her terminal screen - and the date. “Oh.”

How long had it been since she'd had Christmas - a real? Four years? No, give. Before Eden Prime, when she'd been commander of Ghost Squadron in the Traverse.  They'd decorated their part of the base in tinsel (to the local regimental Sergeant major's disgust) and stuck reindeer horns on their scout vehicle. The Gunny had even somehow rustled up some honest to god Christmas ham.

It felt like another life.

“I'm guessing you'll want the day off to spend with your family.” Her chest twisted for a moment with a thought of her mother and brother - then released. She'd become an expert at shoving anything besides the war aside.

“Yeah, but…” Ash paused before putting her hand on her shoulder. Shepard tilted her head back to look at her, “my mom’s invited you.”

Shepard blinked in surprise. “I didn't know your mother knew about us.”

Ash smiled wryly, “Neither did I.”

Shepard chuckled at that until she faded into seriousness, “Do you want me to come?”

“Of course I do,” the answer was prompt but still coated with an edge of uncertainty,  “But I know you're very busy. No pressure.”

This was obviously important to her. And, Shepard found, it was important to her too. A moment for them - a normal couple moment - when their relationship was so often squeezed into the gaps in between operations and duties and briefings.

She shrugged, “I can take a day off. Ship needs some repair work done anyway - that starboard shield generator is still playing up. But uh… You know it's been a while since I've ‘met the parents’.”

“She'll love you,” Ash insisted stubbornly, “Everyone loves you. “

Shepard rolled her eyes, “Enough people have tried to kill me that I know  _ that's  _ not true.”

“Just be your normal, charming ‘I'm on recruiting posters’ self and don't freak out. I mean, I had to meet  _ your  _ mother. My sisters are probably going to threaten you, but just pretend to be intimidated or something.”

“Pretend?”

Ash raised an eyebrow at her. “You're Commander Shepard, babe. N7 Marine, Spectre. Fought a Reaper - “

“Two Reapers.”

Ashley rolled her eyes, “ _ Two  _ Reapers on foot. I think you can handle my sisters. Lynn cried once because I killed a spider.”

“Yeah but Reapers aren't the people you care about most,” she admitted quietly, looking at her hands. If she were honest, most people were the most exciting of puzzles to Emilia Shepard. Puzzles to be solved. But she couldn't look at the sisters and mother Ash adored like that.

Ashley's expression gentled. “I love you, dork. That's what they'll care about.”

Shepard breathed out and raised her head, “Alright. I'll tell everyone to only call me for emergencies tomorrow.”

“And this afternoon,” Ash added, “still got to get presents.

* * *

 

Being out of uniform felt off, as if she was wearing someone else's clothes. She'd had so few civilian clothes that they'd made a stop to buy something for her to wear to the Williams Family Christmas Party. Most of the clothes she'd bought in a fit of spite after she woke up in a Cerberus lab had been left behind on Earth and it hadn't seemed necessary to replace them when she was in uniform most of the time.

But while it felt strange, it also felt a little freeing. Like she'd taken off a little weight for a day.

Of course, it'd been replaced with a bubbling of anxiety in her gut. She hadn't Met The Family since Rita, and that relationship had gone down in flames before the SR1 had its keel laid down.

Ashley seemed to find it funny, “You've met them before.”

“Yeah, but that was different.” 2183, after Saren. When Ashley still wore chevrons and all they were supposed to be to each other was Commander and subordinate.

Ash grinned at her across the dim interior of the taxi. “You're a dork.”

Emilia drew herself up, “Am not.”

“Sure you are,” she leaned across to brush their lips together, her hand resting on Emilia’s hip. Her touch was the smoulder warmth of tamped coals as she lingered. Shepard shivered under her lips, remembering waking that morning - Christmas morning - to her girlfriend's warm hands and mouth, childish indignation slipping away.

The sky car came to a stop and they gathered up the presents. Each label read ‘From Ash and Emilia’ and writing them out had been a surprising thrill each time.

Mariana Williams and her two middle daughters lived in the refugee camp, amongst the rest of the remnants of Amaterasu. Sarah Williams had an apartment on the Wards, near the hospital she worked at. Ashley had spent a fair bit of her shore leave helping her mother decorate and construct their temporary home.

And it showed. The Williams residence might not be the warm brick house on Amaterasu - it might just be some shipping containers hollowed out and joined together, but it had been painted and a garden built against the front. Tinsel and lights covered the metal.

Ashley almost bounced to the door. Her clear excitement warmed Shepard to the bone as she trailed in her wake. Sometimes she thought they'd both forgotten what peace looked like - it was really something to see her  _ happy. _

She banged on the door, “Mãe! Feliz natal!”

The door swung open and Ash was gathered up in a ferocious hug by a shorter, elegant woman in a  _ very  _ festive dress.

“Go put your presents under the tree, minha filha,” Mariana Williams Rodrigues said before turning to Shepard, brown eyes the same colour as Ashley's sharp.

“Feliz Navidad, ma'am.” Shepard said - before she was seized in a firm hug.

“None of that ‘ma’am’ nonsense,” she said briskly, pulling back before Shepard could pull herself out of her instinctive flinch or work out what to do with her hands. “you will call me Mariana. Where are you from?”

Shepard blinked. “I'm a spacer, but my family is Argentinian.”

“Mamãe!” Ash returned, bereft of presents, “At least let her in the door before you start the Inquisition.”

Her hand was warm on the small of Shepard’s back - for once uncautious of open affection, of who might see - as she drew her inside.

“I'm just getting to know her,” Mariana insisted, “You never bring anyone home!”

“Sure, I do.”

“No, you don't.” A new voice. A woman, roughly 27, wrapped in a long flowing dress, with Ashley's nose but none of her hardness. “At least, not since your high school boyfriend.”

“That counts!”

“It really doesn't.” They hugged, the younger woman tucking her head under Ash's chin.

“You must be Abby,” Shepard said, shaking her hand once the sisters separated.

Abby had a dreamer’s eyes, “That's me. And you must be Commander Shepard.”

“Just Shepard is fine.”

For such a small space, they'd made the living room of the makeshift house into something special. Christmas music was playing softly in the background and there was an honest to god pine tree in the corner with presents piled beneath, spreading a warm, green smell throughout the house a nativity scene valances on a box turned table. The Williams were a military family, a colonial family. They knew the 0how to make do.

“You're already met Sarah,” Ash pointed people out to her,, “over there's Lynn and there's Abby’s husband, Han. Everyone, this is my partner Emilia.”

“I think everyone knows who she is, Ash,” Sarah said dryly. Ash waved a hand at her dismissively. 

* * *

Shepard was leaning against a wall, watching Ash twirl Lynn around to the sound of Christmas carols, when Abbey slid up next to her, eggnog in hand.

“So… this is serious this time?”

She couldn't blame Abby for her caution. In the long, halting conversation she and Ash had before they'd gotten back together - laying all the cards on the table - she'd told Shepard that Abby was the sister she'd leant on after Alchera. 

Even so.

“Always has been,” she admitted. The Emilia Shepard of four years ago hadn't risked her career for a one night stand or fling.

“She was heartbroken , you know,” Abby’s eyes were fierce with love and protectiveness.

“I know,” she said regretfully, watching the laughter dance over Ash's face. “I love her, and I never meant to put her in that position.”

On the other side of a barrel of a gun. Love and friendship warring with duty. 

“Well, I'd threaten to break your kneecaps or something suitably dramatic if you hurt her again, but you can probably kill someone with a toothpick, so.” Abby shrugged.

Shepard smirked slightly, “I'll lend you the bat.”

“What?” Abby blinked.

“The bat to break my kneecaps. If I hurt her again.”

Ashley chose that moment to make a beeline for them, wrapping an arm around Shepard shoulder, and kissing her on the cheek, “Hey babe, you two having fun?”

“I was giving Shepard the shovel talk,” Abby said cheerily.

“Abby!”

“I'm pretty sure your girlfriend can defend herself.”

“I dunno,” Shepard smiled, “I've heard you're good with a sword.” She slid an arm around Ashes waist, enjoying the solid warmth of her.

“Sure, if you break my sister's heart I'll just challenge you to a duel,” Abby said with mock solemnity.

“Has to be high noon, of course,” Shepard added, nodding wisely.

“Glad you two are getting along, but I'll defend my own honour, thanks.” Ash said, deadpan, then tugged on Emilia’s hand, “ C’mon, ma’s about to serve dinner. I bet even you'll be too full to move afterwards.”

“Challenge accepted.” she let Ash pull her towards the table, deeper into warmth and laughter. 


	2. Day 2: Last Minute Shopping

“So...let me get this straight,” said Garrus, mandibles flaring in confusion, “Your religious holiday involves a great deal of commercialism, songs about baby gods and an old man sneaking into your home via the chimney? The _ Normandy  _ doesn’t even hve a chimney, andeven if we did, I’d be meeting him with a rifle, not a glass of milk.”

Sensing another of Garrus’ rants about how (some) humans drinking another mammal’s milk was both weird and a bit gross, Shepard hastily said, “Yes.”

“No,” said Ash.

Ashley glared at Shepard. Garrus just looked more confused than ever.

“Anyway. The point is that those of us that celebrate Christmas will be doing a few things for Christmas and Epiphany. Decorating, buying presents for people. So if you see random trees, that’s why.”

“Trees?” 

“Yes. There’s no need to reciprocate the presents. It’s not your holiday. Just don’t get rid of our tree.”

A thoroughly confused  turian wandered off.

Shepard nodded, “I think we can safely say that was a victory for the Alliance’s sort-of-emergency Foreign Affairs Minister.” 

Ash levelled a flat look, “You deserve an award for cultural exchange.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You know we don’t have  _ any  _ presents, right?”

“Yep.”

“Because someone had to disappear off to  _ Omega  _ with  _ Aria T’Loak _ for two weeks?”

“You’re still angry about that, aren’t you?” 

Ash nodded,”Oh yeah. It’ll take a really good present to get me to shut up about the Aria T’Loak and ‘alone’ parts.”

“I’ll think of something-” Shepard came to a stop so suddenly Ash nearly walked into her as they left the  _ Normandy’s  _ mess. “Shit.” 

“What?” 

Shepard gave her girlfriend a very sad, solemn look, “It’s Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve shopping. We’re going to die.” 

A contemplative look crossed, “We’re both Spectres-”

“Ash, no.”

“C’mon!”

“We are  _ not  _ abusing our Spectre status to get discounts and/or reservations from stores on the Citadel.” 

Ash sighed, “This is a really weird thing for you to have one of your ethical hang ups over, babe.”

“A small ethical violation is just a slippery slope into larger ethical violations,” Shepard said archly.

Ashley smirked at her, brown eyes gleaming with mischief, “In that case, it should be fine. You’re already sleeping with me.” 

“Ash!”

“That’s a  _ textbook  _ ethical violation there, Commander. I should report you.”

Emilia was pouting at her, not that Commander Emilia Shepard would ever admit to such a thing, “You’re mean to me, Lieutenant Williams. I don’t like you very much.” 

“You love me,” Ashley said smugly, pulling her into the elevator by her arm.

“I do,” she sighed, “Well...maybe it won’t be to bad. Not even all humans celebrate Christmas.”

* * *

 

It was that bad.

It appeared not just the culturally Christian humans had been drawn in by the shopping strip’s sales, even if she heard an asari questioning the red and green decorations and overabundance of tinsel. 

“Fuck my life,” Shepard muttered, eyeing the crowds. “For once in my life could a mission be simple?” 

“I think we needed an OPORD for this one,” Ash observed with a grimace. “Alright, let’s get the crew’s presents, then we’ll split up. You grab your presents for your family and I’ll do mine, then we’ll regroup for lunch.” 

“Roger that.” 

They forged through the crowd, Shepard gritting her teeth and reminding herself to keep a tight hold of both her temper and her elbows - if she said anything remotely testy to someone, she knew it’d end up splashed across tabloid newspapers. ’Commander Shepard, losing the plot?’ etc etc.

Even if neither of them were particularly fond of crowds or people being right up in their personal space. At least Ash was there. Ash always had her six.

They slowly forged their way through the crowds. A rifle scope for Garrus, one he’d been eyeing off for months. A display case for Tali, so she could set her Rannoch Rock into it instead of keeping it crumbling slightly onto her desk. Fancy asari tea for Liara, a bottle of nice wine for Adams and a bottle of brandy for Chakwas (“That’s not going to Ruin your tradition with her, right?” ”I’m 99% sure Karin drinks more than one bottle of brandy a year.”). They picked up some new weights for James and a skycar rental for Cortez. For Sam Ash had found an actual antique chess set, and for Joker a vidgame subscription (“We both know he’s a secret nerd.).

They argued for nearly twenty minutes about what to get EDI.

“What do you even get a starship?”

“New coat of paint? New torpedo tube?”

“Ash, that’s just  _ maintenance _ . We’re looking for something that celebrates her personhood.” 

That got them a few odd looks.

In the end, they bought a couple of ‘unsolvable’ puzzles and set her up a credit chit with a lump sum on it, to which a stipend from the ship’s account would be added. 

“It makes me uncomfortable not to pay her anyway. The Alliance charter specifically prohibits sentient slavery. I should look into making sure she gets back pay.”

“Let me be there when you tell Hackett the ship needs back pay, _please_.”

* * *

 

You’d think that getting your partner a present - the person you knew the most intimately - would be easy.

But it’d become about the opposite. Ash liked guns and poetry, but Shepard had decided against anything she could justify on an Alliance expenses form and she’d bought a small library of poetry books for her already, when Ash was still in hospital.

The one good thing about the crowds was that she managed, with her civvies on, to blend in amongst the last minute shoppers. She paused by the jeweller, eyes caught on bands of silver and gold.  _ Bad idea.  _ The desire bubbled in her gut, but whatever came after the war was an impossibility, too far away and foreign to imagine, and that was were marriage belonged. 

It’d be nice to fight for that chance, Shepard thought, but tore her eyes away. There were much bigger things at stake than her own future. 

In the end she found, in a second hand shop, an old and dog-eared copy of some of Whitman’s poetry to replace a similarly well loved one she'd lost on Earth. A real, physical copy rather than the electronic version she’d found before, with fragile leather you could feel under your hands.

The shop owner recognised her, milky eyes widening, but the old, bent over woman said nothing. She just packaged it up in brown paper wrapping and handed it over. 

Shepard tucked it under an arm and went looking for her lover and lunch.


	3. Day Three

“You got the tree up already,” Ashley couldn’t help the surprise that coloured her tone as she entered the loungeroom of their house, briefcase still in her hand. 

Emilia Shepard levered herself up from where she’d been sitting on the couch using her cane, a flash of instinctive defensive crossing her face, “Yes.” 

Ash forced her muscles to relax, her tone to remain light, “Looks amazing, babe.” 

This was a learning experience for both of them, her therapist had pointed out. Shepard needed to learn how to negotiate her new limitations and reconstruct her own identity now the war was over. Ash needed to remember that even if all she wanted to was help, she had to let Shepard do her own thing. She was an independent woman, a proud woman. Getting coddled would slowly suffocate her.

So Ashley went to work and tried not to worry all the time.

“I wanted to wait until you got home to put the decorations on,” Shepard muttered, relaxing almost imperceptibly.

“Thanks,” Ash said, genuinely. Shepard had been listening when she’d talked about how that had been one of her family’s traditions when she was growing up - the whole family gathering to decorate the tree together. That was one of the things she loved about her wife. She listened to Ash, and always had, from their first conversation aboard the Normandy.

This was their first real Christmas together. The war was over. They had a future together and traditions of their own to make.

Ashley set down her case and peeled off her uniform jacket, leaving the white tank top beneath. She smirked, feeling Shepard’s warm eyes on her - and flexed, just to enjoy the appreciation a little longer.

“Show off,” said Shepard, but it was clear she’d enjoyed it.

“You love it,” she dipped her head and kissed her, lingering long enough for heat to spark and Shepard’s hand to migrate to her hip before pulling back, “I’ll start grabbing the decorations, you mind grabbing us some beers.” 

Emilia licked her lips, pulling her gaze from Ash’s mouth, “Sure thing.” 

Terra Nova was always warm, so the ice cold beer was nice to sip from when they settled on the floor beside the Christmas tree, box of tinsel, lights and baubles between them. 

Ashley had just finished wrapping the tinsel around to Shepard’s exacting instructions (apparently the military officer had to come out every so often or the woman would get bored - and Ash wouldcome home to her ordering the chickens or the dog around), when her wife said suddenly, “I was thinking…”

“Mm?”

“We could have a Christmas party. Invite our families. Our friends.” 

She glanced over, at the thoughtful expression on Shepard’s face, the wistfulness, “Yeah, that’d be cool.” 

“I miss them,” she admitted, “I love having our home, and being with you, but I miss them. I miss the Normandy.” 

“I know. So do I.” She pressed a gentle hand to her shoulder.

“I guess I’ve got to let go of that,” Shepard’s voice was close to a whisper. She was looking down, at the legs ruined by fire and debris.

“Not all of it,” Ash breathed into her hair, wrapping her arms around her waist, “Not the best parts. Let’s have the party.” 

She wondered sometimes if this was the fate of those of them that had survived - to drag the war behind them like an anchor for the rest of their lives. But God, they’d been calling Ashley Williams a survivor since 2183 but she never wanted to live more, to run towards the future the Reapers had nearly deprived them of, than when she had Emilia Shepard in her arms.

“Alright.” Shepard turned in her embrace, arms still corded with muscles injuried or not wrapping around her shoulders and tugged her into another kiss, first demanding then yielding when Ash got into it.

When they sank to the ground, into the plush carpet of their lounge room, Ash laughed into the skin of her neck.

“What?” Shepard demanded, a little breathless, eyes fierce.

“We are so not finishing the tree tonight.”


End file.
